The Crest of Flames. Professor Hanneman is an excited mess about everything for the whole week after the mission. It's the first time that Dedue learns about Relics, and everything about the concept seems too good to be true. There are certain weapons that only those with a Crest can use safely? And when the right Crest bearers use it, there's a special power with them?
Dedue freezes on the words "Crest bearers". He thinks about Sylvain, and what he's learned through having Crests. He thinks about Felix, who is willing to throw himself into battle because as long as he has a weapon in his hands, it seems like the Fraldarius Crest is alight more often than it's not. Dimitri, Ingrid, Annette, and Mercedes seem content with their Crests: Dimitri and Ingrid's stronger attacks being even more powerful as their weapons splinter under the exuberant amount of force, and Annette and Mercedes always seem to relax a bit, an extra reserve of energy filling in from nowhere when their Crests glow behind them.
One thing that Dedue knows about magic, energy, and anything relating to it, is that something can't come from nothing. It's the story of Unda et Caelum, how the sky cannot rain unless the water gives them what they need. To get something, you have to give something. Trading and bartering works with this knowledge, and even in Fodlan, where direct bartering seems to have been lost ages ago, you still have to hand over gold for whatever goods you want.
And Dedue thinks of Mihail, who was forced to adopt a Crest, having it pierced into his body. Once in Faerghus, during one of his free days, Dedue spent the entire morning taking care of Mihail, who could barely open his eyes thanks to the headaches that seem to plague him because of those experiments. What else was Mihail forced to give up for his magic to be slightly stronger?
What is the professor's price for holding what is apparently the strongest Crest in the world? Dedue doesn't want to even think about it.
The second thing about Crests that makes Dedue feel like quicksand is how divisive they are. He already sees it from the Gautier brothers, but the church's celebrations throw it into his face.
One day during lunch, Dedue walks in to see all of the students with Crests sitting at one table. Edelgard, Dimitri, Claude, Linhardt, Lorenz, Felix, Ingrid, Lysithea, Bernadetta, Hilda, Ferdinand, Sylvain, Annette, Marianne, Mercedes, and Mihail. A few of them, mostly Annette and Hilda, look excited, just simply happy to talk to others. Others, like Bernadetta, Linhardt, Marianne, and Ingrid, seem to just want it all to be over with. Some people are stiff backed and quiet. The house leaders and a few seem to be in a smaller group, having a respectable conversation. Edelgard and Dimitri and Claude and Ferdinand and Lysithea and Mihail-
Mihail makes eye contact with him and smiles, waving him over. Dedue is almost able to take a seat at the table when one of the priestesses clears her throat, staring at him.
"I apologize," she says in a tone that is not at all apologetic, "but this table has been reserved for those who carry Crests. You will have to find somewhere else to sit."
"Oh, that's fine," Mihail states, "He can be my plus one."
The priestess' sweet smile turns bittersweet. "I'm afraid that's not possible for today. Maybe you should reschedule whatever meal you had planned together for tomorrow."
"I personally don't see what the problem here is," Edelgard states, looking at the woman with a piercing glare. "As practitioners of the church, we should be following the Goddess' teachings about community and bonding, shouldn't we?"
"Well, yes, but-"
"Edelgard, stand down," Dimitri speaks, glancing apologetically towards the priestess. "What's the harm in following the church's activities?"
Dedue is reminded of Lonato. And the monks of the Western church. And how simply Rhea condemned everyone that the Blue Lions had carefully incapacitated to death. How those were the results of following the church's activities.
Ferdinand hums. "I am curious about why the church has decided that all the Crest users need to come together, but if it's for one dinner, I don't see the issue."
Claude and Lysithea look like they've just eaten a slice of lemon at the same time. "Either way," Lysithea starts, her tone careful and measured, "it is strange that we aren't able to eat with those in our house. Or that we can't choose who we eat with today."
"But you can!" The priestess nearly shouts, drawing attention from the rest of the table. "You have so many wonderful people here at this table. And you can all talk about the one thing you have in common." There's a look in her eyes that Dedue can't begin to figure out, an emotion buried deep under sands of devotion.
"Not to burst your bubble or anything, but it looks like some people don't even want to be here," Claude points out, and Bernadetta starts frantically nodding her head.
The priestess looks like she's ready to break an oath she swore ages ago before gasps fill the dining hall. Everyone looks at the door to see Archbishop Rhea enter the room and pick up a plate of food as if it were a normal day and she was regularly in the dining hall. She makes her way to the table of Crest users and takes a seat next to Dimitri. "Greetings, everybody," she says, smile and voice full of warmth, "I do hope that I am not late to the occasion."
The priestess recovers in record time. "Of course you haven't, Lady Rhea. I was just escorting this man away from the event that's specifically for Crest bearers." She glares at him as she says those last words and Dedue feels like his welcome has been overstayed. He waves at Mihail before walking away, fully aware that the priestess is following him until he finds a seat across from Dorothea and Petra. The three share looks before they start eating, sharing light conversation between the three of them that comfortably flows throughout the entire meal.
That night, Dedue is sitting on the ground in front of Mihail as he combs through his hair. The white, somewhat curly strands are getting longer, the ends at his shoulders now, but Dedue doesn't feel like trimming it right now.
"How do you want me to tie your hair back?" Mihail asks.
Dedue thinks about it for a moment. His usual hairstyle is nice, but it's starting to get old. "Surprise me."
Mihail laughs, and Dedue feels the younger Duscis' fingers start working to part his hair. "I'll give you a small braid," Mihail says, moving quickly. "Hopefully it can stay together throughout tomorrow."
"I only have a brawling seminar tomorrow," Dedue notes, staying still so Mihail's braid can be as neat as possible. "As long as it can work through that, it should be fine."
When Mihail finishes, Dedue finds himself in front of a mirror he recently bought with some gold he found, looking at the reflection as it hangs on the wall. He takes the time that he should be spending on looking at his hair staring at himself as a whole, from the chest up. His face looks rough, like a cliff face that's been chipped away by the sea. Dedue knows that he usually isn't the most expressive person, but his eyes still hold their fluidity and warmth, both a natural hot bath and scolding lava depending on whichever he needed at the time. He looks at his hair now, and follows the ridge that the braid forms from his temple until it disappears at the back of his head, only to reappear in the ponytail.
He glances over at Mihail in the mirror, and in that quick glance he can spot so many similarities and differences. Both of their skin tones are going back to their healthy and darker colors now that they're out of Faerghus. Dedue's emerald green eyes are solid, expansive forests that grow and shift but still stand strong, and Mihail's eyes contrast between a sharp green breeze and a dull brown swaying of a feather. Dedue stands as tall as a mountain, and while Mihail isn't short, barely less than a head shorter than him, there is still a lack of muscle that leaves him in a very concerning state. Both of them have longer hair now, and Dedue can barely remember when Mihail kept his hair cut low because-
"Did I do a bad job?"
Dedue looks in the mirror for a bit longer. Then he smiles. He smiles at their wide noses and fuller lips and darker skin and gemma dangling on their ears and anything else that marks them as Duscis through and through. And for a moment, it feels like he's back in Duscur, with everyone currently hiding under Abyss just talking to each other as they cook, eat, play, and do each other's hair.
He shakes his head. "You did a good job, Mihail. I was just lost in thought."
The next morning, Dedue adds more food than usual to Mihail's plate. He makes eye contact with Raphael as his fellow classmate does the same with Ignatz. They nod at each other and go back to their business.
Halfway through the month, Byleth asks Dedue to support Mihail in a practice battle. Dedue spends the entire fight keeping an eye on Mihail's flank as he and his battalion find themselves in the thick of the battle. At one moment, Dedue sees Mihail dodge a blow from a bandit armed with gauntlets and quickly brings up a wall of stone to stop the next attack. Mihail sends a strong gust of wind over the wall before disengaging, getting into a defensive stance.
"Thanks for the"-Mihail ducks under an arrow and Dedue creates a pillar to take the next shot-"Thanks for the help."
"It is no issue," Dedue says, looking at the two bandits lined up in front of them. "Should I go deal with him?"
"Don't bother," Mihail says with a smirk, and Dedue isn't really surprised when he whistles and the mages around him send a bolt of lightning in front of them, hitting every enemy down the line.
The day that they receive their mission at the end of the month is the day that Dedue swears that some part of the world has it out for Sylvain Jose Gautier.
"The eldest Gautier brother has managed to break into the tower and use it as a base of operations," Seteth says, noticeably keeping his gaze away from the redhead. "It is reported that he is currently wielding the Lance of Ruin, and thus is now a wanted person by order of the Archbishop, Lady Rhea, herself."
Byleth nods. "Thank you, Seteth. I believe that we'll be off on the last Saturday of the moon. Will the Church provide any aid?"
"There is a knight used to the Kingdom's customs, Gilbert. He will be accompanying you."
Dedue walks out of his Brawler class exams, holding his new kit in his hands when Dimitri comes up to him. "Dedue!" He says, panting as if he had ran around the entire monastery. "Would you mind accompanying me to meet up with Gilbert?"
Dedue simply nods, placing the lightweight kit in his bag and following Dimitri to the dining hall. They grab their plates and take a seat near an orange and grey-haired man in armored robes. "Greetings, Your Highness," The man, Gilbert, says.
Dimitri nods. "Hello, Gilbert. This is Dedue."
Dedue simply nods at the man, trying to put together where he's seen that orange color before. It had to have been sometime while he was at the castle, although it could have been while at the monastery. Maybe both? Maybe it just reminded him of a random bandit he's fought during battle?
Gilbert nods back, and the three eat dinner in relative silence. At the end of it, Dedue stands up, excusing himself, and sees Annette looking at the three of them with strong emotions in her eyes. Her orange hair catches Dedue's eye, and for a few seconds, he wonders if the two are related, his question from before finally answered.
Either way, it's none of his business if neither of them ask him about it, so he hopes that Annette is feeling okay and walks away, getting out of the dining hall as fast as he can.
Bernadetta is a very quiet person.
She's also so timid, Dedue wouldn't be surprised if the shy rabbits around the monastery ended up hunting her one day. But either way, she seems to not mind his presence in the greenhouse too much when they both end up inside of it every now and then, and he can work with that.
Dedue sees her shoulders tense up as he enters the greenhouse now, and he simply says nothing and heads to his small plot of soil, a few meters away from hers. The time seems to fly by as he starts digging through the soil, creating small pockets to plant seeds in later.
He hums to himself as he waves his hand over freshly tilled soil, singing a song to Tellus about nurturing, care, protection, and comfort. His hands warm up and the dirt starts to shake as his magic infuses itself into it. It reminds him of home, of Gein and Nepht at his side as they all worked over small gardens during colder seasons and grander fields during the harvests. Cibor was one of the quickest people when he started blossoming into himself, easily running picked items from the fields to the wagons to be shipped off. Adrista and her family kept the lights on as the sun went down and there was barely any moon to follow it. Bryn was warmth during the breaks, but they and their family could not be anywhere near the crops.
They did have a great bonfire during the celebrations though.
He doesn't even realize that he's still singing until he feels someone pull on his jacket. He turns his head to see Bernadetta anxiously looking down at the ground. "Uh, sorry, your plot-"
His plot is glowing. It's too much magic. Shit.
"Thank you," He simply says, turning back to start trying to siphon out the excess. The seeds he planned on using today would not be able to handle the amount he was using.
He's just barely started the task when Bernadetta talks again. "Sorry for bothering you again, but um-" she stops talking, and Dedue looks at her again. She looks like she's about to pass out, sweating up a storm.
"Yes?" he asks, wondering-
She shrieks, and dashes off into the distance. Dedue can see her pass by Dorothea, and the songstress just looks over at him and shrugs.
Dedue feels conflicted, but he turns back to remove the rest of the excess magic. Hopefully Bernadetta will feel better with some rest.
There's a term in Duscis that translates roughly to, "It went from worse to worser."
That's how Dedue feels going up Gautier Tower. He's been sticking to the closer walls of the tower ever since the Blue Lions started their mission, making sure that the archer at the top was specifically targeting him so that he could constantly deflect their arrows with the stone of the floor.
There's the buzz of magic and the clang of metal as both his classmates and Miklan's bandits fight. He hears Felix warn everyone about ambushes and reinforcements before the sounds of fighting start getting louder behind him. Dedue turns around and sees the four swordsmen currently facing off against Felix and Annette.
He starts running, watching as Felix's sword slices across the chest of one, and Annette's magic throws another one into the wall, knocking him out. Dedue manages to get between Annette and another swordsman just in time to pick the man up and throw him off to the side.
He feels a sharp pain in his side, and looks down to see the blade of the last bandit currently in his side. He looks up to see a smirk on the bandit's face just before Annette blows the man back. Felix nods at him before running forward to get back into the fray. He shares a smile with Annette as she tries her best to heal him, having studied Reason more than Faith. After the wound closes up, although the soreness of the pain is still there, he notices the smile falls off her face as she looks past him. At wear the heavy and slow footsteps of Gilbert shakes the floor with minute tremors.
Dedue quietly takes a step in between the two of them, the soft smile still on his face. "If I deal with the mages," he starts, gesturing at the few that their classmates were about to encounter, "can you handle the bandits?"
Annette looks at him for a few moments before a grin creeps across her face. "I can do you one better," she says, pointing at the armored knight in the corner, sectioned off by the architecture of the tower. "How do you feel about armor busting?"
Dedue gets the message, putting aside his gauntlets and pulling out his mace. "I feel wonderful about the idea," he declares, and Annette leads the way.
The fight against the armored knight is almost unfair. For the knight, that is. Annette even finds a lovely ring on the ground after they beat him.
It's the adrenaline from that fight that guides them up to the top of the tower just in time to watch Miklan Gautier fight against the Lance of Ruin and turn into a beast.
Sylvain just stands there after Miklan is defeated.
Dimitri stands next to him, hand on his shoulder. Felix and Ingrid are standing off to the side. Byleth is busy talking to Gilbert about the mission and what to tell the church later. Mihail, Mercedes, and Annette are looking over injured soldiers in different battalions and working to heal them. Ashe stands by Dedue's side, also watching the scene. "Hey, Dedue," Ashe starts, "do you ever think about Crests and nobility?"
"Every now and then," Dedue answers, looking at the archer out of the corner of his eye. "Why do you ask?"
"It's nothing, really," Ashe says. "I just find myself wondering why Lonato had to die. And why Gautier had to force Miklan away from being the heir. It would've been easier for everyone if people just chose to talk and listen."
Dedue thinks about his words. Lonato had qualms against the church, but there must have been a history of ignored questions and comments that lead to the fight in the forest. Miklan had been raised since birth to inherit the deed of Gautier, and it was just situations outside of his control that forced it away and demonized him.
Mihail's family was also attacked during the Tragedy, but the Kingdom had responded with a Murder anyway.
Ashe's words hold weight. Dedue isn't sure how, or if, they would ever fit with Faerghus' ideals.
It's not really a shock that night when Mihail is at his door, ready to sleep over. It is a shock that he's followed by Ashe and Sylvain. There's very little words exchanged as everyone takes the blankets brought with them and sets up small cots on the ground. Dedue makes sure that everyone is comfortable before everyone goes to sleep.
For Dedue's 19th birthday, he has a sleepover again. It's different than the ones he would have in Silvae, but if he was being honest?
He's glad for the familiarity of comforting others. Being there for them. It feels better than mindlessly slogging through each day like he was doing back in Faerghus before Mihail reappeared.